


Home for Christmas

by marmolady



Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [11]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28326783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolady/pseuds/marmolady
Summary: It's Taylor's first Christmas off La Huerta, and the beginning of new traditions with her found family.
Relationships: Diego Soto/Varyyn (Endless Summer), Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906357
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Christmas Eve

“We’re home!” Taylor called as she stepped through the front door, immediately hit with a wall of warmth and the smells of spiced candles and fir tree. “Happy Christmas Eve, everyone!”

Diego practically bounced to the door, and wrapped his friend in a hug. “Wait, does this mean _you’re_ the gift? Talk about cheap.”

“Hahaha, you’re hilarious. Actually, you should be grateful to have me. I could be helping myself to seconds of Tio Nicolas’ _natilla_ right now. Sadly, airlines don’t tend to let you bring custardy leftovers on board.”

Estela grinned, wiping her snow-covered boots on the mat. “It’d be mush by now anyway. I’m sure Tio will take much better care of it.”

A year ago, everything was so different. Christmas had been, at best, a bittersweet occasion, the shadow of all that had been left behind in a burning world. It had been Taylor’s consolation prize; she’d die in a matter of weeks, but at least she had a semblance of a proper holiday season with the ones she loved.

The share house, purchased by Estela with what had been Aleister’s inheritance passed on, had been somewhat emptier than usual; most of the Catalysts had been desperate to spend the season close to family after having thought them lost forever for so long. With all the space going spare, Aleister and Grace had taken up residence, forsaking their apartment so they could keep Diego company during what was a difficult time for him. Estela and Taylor had, of course, been in San Trobida with Nicolas, sharing a family Christmas Eve-- the first Estela had actually _celebrated_ with her uncle since just a few short days before her mother’s murder. It had been strange to let the occasion be happy, but as the day wore on, she settled into the feeling, warmed by the clear joy in Nicolas. By the time they’d flown all the way back to the States and driven back from Northbridge airport, it was getting on for midnight… almost Christmas Day.

Grace came skipping down the hall, Aleister a little way behind her.

“Merry Christmas, you two!”

“Happy Christmas!” Taylor opened her arms wide, accepting another tight hug. “I can’t believe you guys all stayed up. We _said_ it was gonna be late….”

“Oh, don’t be silly! We’ve missed you. So much I almost don’t feel bad about tearing you away from all that San Trobidan sunshine.”

Estela hugged Grace, who barely came up to her chin. Her sister. “Christmas is for family. Tio is Colombian, so it’s all about Christmas Eve for him… it kind of works well now that my family’s a little bigger.”

There was sadness in Grace’s eyes… deep and profound. Estela saw it there, and it made her heart hurt. She had a lot of things she’d like to say about Grace’s mother, but none that had their place here and now. How _anyone_ could remain cold after over a year of separation-- a disappearance no less-- boggled her mind. But Grace was Estela’s family now, and that came with no expectations, no strings attached. Perhaps someday Blaire Hall would see what exactly it was that she’d been missing out on, but in the meantime, Grace would be given all the familial love she could ever need.

Taylor turned around from hugging a typically awkward Aleister to catch Diego’s eye. “Hey, if you want to check out your _actual_ gift, try the back door.”

“Uh, Tay… what have you done?”

“Just go look! Jeez, so ungrateful….” Taylor exchanged knowing glances with the rest of her companions once Diego was safely down the hallway.

“ _Oh. My. God!”_ came a cry from the back room. “ _Ohmygod._ I think I’m gonna cry… oh my-- _Varyyn!”_

Grace chuckled. “I think you guys just won Christmas!”

“I know, right?” Taylor said, grinning broadly. Having brought Varyyn to San Trobida a couple of days prior so he could fly into the States with them for Christmas was a big undertaking… but _somehow_ they’d managed to keep the secret. “Whoever’s got Diego for Secret Santa is gonna have to bring it.”

Grace and Aleister followed after Diego, excited to reunite with a friend they’d not seen in months. For all intents and purposes, Varyyn was the thirteenth Catalyst-- and as far as anyone was concerned, as part of the family as anyone else. It would take some assistance from Iris’ wizardry with holographic disguises, but Varyyn would be kept safe, and given a holiday to remember.

Listening to the joyous chattering of her best friend as he hurriedly got the full story of Varyyn’s surprise visit right from the source, Taylor smiled to herself as she slumped against the wall, exhausted. Late nights were something she still struggled with since her recovery from Vaanu’s essence leaving her-- though the slew of parties that came with moving into a house with half the Catalyst gang had built up her resilience a little. She noticed a sprig of mistletoe hanging over the doorway to the hall, and sidled over. All those kisses she’d shared with Estela last Christmas… they’d been goodbyes. Taylor didn’t ever want to kiss Estela goodbye again; she wanted to kiss her to say ‘I love you’, or ‘I’m yours, forever’, or ‘sling me over your shoulder and carry me to bed’. _Anything_ but ‘goodbye’.

Estela caught Taylor’s eye, and a smirk. Just a flash of a tease-- a dare. _Such a freaking dork._ And, of course, she had to go to her. She would _always_ go to her.

Taylor swayed exaggeratedly, a pout on her lips, as she glanced --with all the subtlety of an army tank-- at the mistletoe above their heads. “So… are you gonna ki--?”

No further prompting was needed; Estela covered Taylor’s mouth in a searing kiss, while her hands roamed along her sides and back, holding… feeling. It was all she could do not to quirk a satisfied smile at the moan against her lips as her tongue swirled against Taylor’s. She could do this for… well, she could go without breath for fourteen minutes, but that could never be enough. How could she need air when she had this?

“I fucking love you, Taylor….” she gasped when she finally came away.

“... _Buh…?”_ was the wordless sound that fell out of Taylor’s mouth as she wobbled on the spot. It took a moment for her to bring herself back to her senses, to return to earth from whatever heavenly realm she’d just been swept into. “I love you, Estela. _I love you.”_

She took Estela’s face in her hands, and kissed her hard, relishing the force, the passion with which her lover reciprocated. It was fierce and triumphant, all theirs after coming so close to it all being snatched away. _My Estela. I’m yours, forever._

“Aw, what?” Diego exclaimed as he came into the hall, Varyyn’s hand clasped in his. “We’ve got a mistletoe traffic jam! Come on, Tay-- I haven’t seen him in _weeks._ Pretty, pretty please?”

Coming away with a little groan, Taylor looked into the disgruntled face of her best friend, at had to smile. It wasn’t possible to resent the interruption when She gave an exaggerated sigh. “ _Someone_ should’ve bought more mistletoe….”

“Hey! My expectations for kissing were _so_ low--”

Taylor laughed, perhaps a little intoxicated by the lingering buzz of that kiss. “Oh, we’ll get out your hair. There’s some things best done with a little more privacy.” She wiggled her eyebrows at Estela, who was still looking at her as if oblivious to the presence of anyone else. All shining tenderness. It made her damn near melt on the spot. “Shall we?”

Estela nipped in for one last quick peck to her wife’s lips. “Okay… done.” She glanced to Diego and Varyyn with a slight smirk. “You two have fun. Before you have to fight off Grace and Aleister.”

Having dumped their backpacks unceremoniously to the floor, Taylor and Estela fell onto their bed in a mess of loving touches and joyous giggles.

“Happy Christmas, sexy lady,” Taylor purred.

Estela blushed, glancing away momentarily before stealing another kiss.

“ _Te deseo con el fuego ardiente de mil soles. Eres mia, amante. Mi todo_.”

“I have no idea what you just said… so why do I have shivers going up my spine?”

With a breathy laugh, Estela snuggled into the crook of Taylor’s neck. _My everything._ She could never take for granted what she had, some miracle that had meant Taylor could stay, that this was not, in fact, a dream. But she woke up each morning, and there Taylor was, and it was a balm for every hurt she’d ever been dealt.

“Hey?” she murmured.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“And… before we went to sleep… I wanted you to have something. Seeing as we’re actually doing gifts this year.”

Taylor quirked an eyebrow, playing cool when all she really wanted to do was dive in her drawer and bring out her own gift. She’d been working on it a _long_ time. “Okay-- just give me a moment. I’ve got something for you too. I’ll just change into my PJs first; gotta be comfortable.”

While Estela quickly got into her pyjamas, she glanced over at Taylor, unable to hold back a smile. God, she was beautiful. Estela reluctantly turned away to rummage for her gift. 

“Happy Christmas, Taylor,” she said, leaning in to kiss her lover’s cheek as she handed over the carefully wrapped parcel.

A warm smile spread across Taylor’s face. After the heartache the previous Christmas had come with, this was so wonderfully _comfortable._

“Happy Christmas, ‘Stel.”

Taylor delicately pulled off the tape, trying not to rip the paper, and revealed a fat hard-cover book. It was heavy in her hands, full to bursting, slithers of paper peeking out the edges. A photo album.

“Wow, Estela… how did you do this?” she asked as she began to turn the pages. On the first page, the group selfie Michelle had taken just before the confrontation with Rourke-- which had been recovered from IRIS’ data bank-- and what followed was a chronological record of Taylor’s two years on Earth. There she was… holding a mewing pink kitten, a Valentine’s Day present… wind-surfing with Varyyn… dressed up to the nines for what had become the traditional Catalyst New Years-Multi-Birthday extravaganza. She’d not even _seen_ most of them before. This must have been the complete repository of every photograph her friends had ever snapped on their phones during their year on La Huerta. Beside the photographs, her friends had scrawled notes and captions.“I mean, how did you get all these? Was everyone in on this?”

“Yeah, pretty much. Of course, you ask for help with these people and they go crazy with it. So it’s a little bit bigger than I first had in mind.”

More and more pictures. More and more memories. Taking her back to herself at her most weak and vulnerable, recovering from the release of Vaanu’s essence that had almost killed her. Friends crowded around her sick bed… then the celebrations that followed.

“There’s still room in the back,” Estela said. “For whatever it is next year brings.”

“Bring on 2020,” Taylor laughed. “I don’t think there’s anything it could throw at me I can’t handle; not now.” _I’ve got you, don’t I?_ She looked up into Estela’s smiling face and loved her, her own eyes welling. “Thank you-- so much. Looking at this… I must be the luckiest person who ever lived. Nothing’s ever gonna be the same-- _thank god_ \-- but this time in our lives has been incredible, and this is just gonna keep it all with me. I love it. I really love it.”

Estela’s cheeks flushed. She could never tire of making Taylor’s face light up like that; glowing with joy. “Good. Because I love you.”

“And I love you too-- my starlight.” Taylor edged closer until she could tug Estela into a tight snuggle, and planted a soft kiss to her lips. Bliss. Then, she reached behind her pillow and brought out a squashy-looking present. “For you, my lover.”

Estela giggled and stole another kiss before accepting the gift. “It’s okay, I won’t have a meltdown this time.” Out of the wrapper fell a soft woolen bundle of dark blues and purples, accented with stars. An infinity scarf, homemade and endearingly lumpy.

“Taylor, it’s beautiful.” Estela hugged the scarf to her chest. She could feel the love interwoven through the whole thing, and the symbolism of the stars… and their forever.

“I tried to arrange the stars _roughly_ into our constellations. Limited success, but if you _squint--”_

Estela hooked the scarf around her wife’s neck and tugged her in for a kiss. “It’s perfect, you dope. I absolutely love it. And I love you-- to the furthest star in the universe and back.” She took Taylor’s hands, and saw those stars in her eyes, shining just for her. “This just… feels like a dream. Like if a year ago, we’d wished and prayed to who and whatever the hell might have been listening… this is more than I could have dared hope for.”

“A _scarf?”_

Estela playfully swatted Taylor about the head.

“No, I know,” Taylor laughed airily. She leaned in and kissed Estela’s nose, her cheeks, her full, tender lips. This holiday season wasn’t an effort in consolation, it was a foundation being laid for a full, human life. Moments that would become traditions. “It’s everything I never thought I could have,” she said softly. “And I am just so, _so_ excited to have this with you, year after year.”

“Me too.”

Leaving her scarf on, Estela snuggled under the heavy blanket and nestled in against Taylor. She yawned, happy-tired. It was a wonderful feeling, running from her head to her toes. She let her hands roam; caressing Taylor’s chest, torso, then venturing beneath her pyjama pants to settle between her legs.

Taylor let out a pleasured hum, but kept herself together enough to reciprocate; she _did_ love a challenge. Her movements were slow, purposeful; knowing exactly how to elicit the whimpers that told her she’d got Estela coming apart in the best way.

The two lovers touched, caressed, kissed, until they lay, spent, in one another’s arms. Estela surrounded Taylor like a blanket; a protective shield. She’d gotten… better. No longer did Estela hold her wife in a vice-grip through the night, fearful that she’d be somehow ripped away. But the touch, close and persistent… she couldn’t settle without it. Someday, they both hoped, the sense of security in their new lives together would be enough. In the meantime, Taylor could sleep safe and utterly loved, her Estela keeping her close.

“Mmm… you ready to call it a night?” Taylor murmured.

Estela closed her eyes and nuzzled against her wife’s neck. “Mmhmm.”

“Ha. Sweet dreams, babe. And Merry Christmas.”

“You too, _querida_ … night-night.”


	2. Christmas Day

Christmas morning was slow and easy, with all three sets of couples content to take their time in rising. Between warm beds and tender arms… and no real reason to rush, it was inevitable that the share house would remain quiet long into the morning.

When everyone _did_ rise, the atmosphere was incredibly relaxed; the quiet enjoyment of the company of close family refreshing. It would be soon enough that the share house would be once again bursting at the seams and pulsing with the sounds of another rowdy Catalyst gathering; saving up energy for what was to come was wise… and the pace suited everyone present. Rugged up in festive pyjamas and lounging before a roaring fire, the small family passed the hours with board games-- purposely bypassing the tantrum-inducing likes of _Monopoly_ \-- and giggling through ever more extravagantly acted out rounds of charades. It was all new to Varyyn, and he soaked it all up like a sponge, throwing himself into everything to the point where he was nearly matching Aleister for dramatic flair. Estela’s ability to act out absolutely _anything_ with a perfect deadpan had the whole group in stitches.

 _This_ , Taylor was certain, was what her holidays were going to be all about. Her and her band of misfits had everything they needed in one another.

Taylor, dressed after having enjoyed a brunch so late it might as well have been lunch-- and not an early one at that--, found Grace on the front porch, sitting with a steaming mug of cocoa and just taking in the distant sounds of children at play a few doors down. On the snow-covered front lawn, Furball was gamboling around merrily. If Varyyn was going to be joining them for Christmas, it had only been fair to make it an open invitation, and the little magic fox had been too excited to see old friends to _not_ be brought along. Taylor was now grateful that Grace had the company, even as she took a quiet moment.

“Are you okay out here? Al said you gave your mom a call earlier. I figured that might have been… stressful.”

A warm smile jumped to Grace’s face at the arrival of her friend-- her sister. The care there had the effect of lessening those stresses, fading them into the distance, where they no longer truly mattered.

“Hey, Taylor,” she said. “Yes, I got that call out the way; I didn’t want the worry to be hanging over me all day. We kept it short. It’s gotten more difficult to find an understanding, you know?” She gave a little sigh, and shook her head. “To Mom, it looks as if I’ve given up, stopped trying. But the only thing I’ve given up is chasing the approval I’ll never earn. All I can do is hope that someday, she’ll look and see the real me; and love that person.”

Taylor put an arm around Grace. “You know, I really think that will happen. Someday. It’s got to take a bit of adjustment for her….”

“And she’s not exactly used to being the one jumping through hoops,” Grace chuckled. “Even jumping through hoops that should take minimal effort. In the meantime, I’m happy. Really, truly happy. We never had Christmases like this-- she never had the time. This is _nice_. It feels like a real family Christmas… spending all morning in our pyjamas, siblings squabbling over something stupid….”

Taylor laughed. It was all good-natured, if occasionally little bit heated. Estela and Aleister were well-practiced at butting heads by this point, and Taylor had strong suspicions that Estela _liked_ getting a rise out of him just to tease. She absolutely exasperated him. And they loved each other.

“Yeah,” she said, “maybe this is what our Christmases are gonna be. Our little family, glued together from all these broken pieces and somehow fitting just right. It’s weird; just about everyone has been shaped some way by their childhood memories of these holidays… I don’t have any of that nostalgia, or old sore spots… just this, now. I guess these days are what I’m going to end up all sentimental about.”

“I know it sounds strange, but… me too, Taylor,” Grace agreed, smiling as her husband’s voice floated out from the house, seeking her out. She couldn’t say when the last time was that someone had truly wanted her company at Christmas was, but _those days_ were a thing of the past. “And right now, I think I want to be back in there, soaking it all up. Come on.”

“Should we put a movie on while we’re waiting for everyone?”

“Tay, you _know_ my response to that. Maybe _Home Alone_ or something. Should go down better than _Muppet Christmas Carol_ did the other day….”

“Good god,” Aleister scoffed, “ _that_ was a mistake. Poor Charles Dickens, rest his soul, his timeless tale could not have been more lost on--”

Estela strode into the room, as if on cue. “The fucker, Scrooge knowingly killed so many people-- _including_ that future version of Tiny Tim, which we can safely assume because it was the bastard’s ‘change of heart’ bullcrap that saved him.”

“Well, Tim wouldn’t have lived if Kermit-- I mean, Bob Cratchit-- hadn’t embraced the changed man before him. The _point_ is redemption. ”

“Yes, he would. Scrooge was so desperate not to die himself that he’d keep the whole damn town fed and housed. Doesn’t mean you’d invite the cockroach in and share dinner with him. Those people were idiots!”

“You might even say they were… _muppets,”_ Diego piped up, a glint in his eye.

Aleister groaned heavily, so utterly _done,_ while Taylor snorted with laughter.

“ _Home Alone_ it is, then,” he muttered.

The main event, the full Catalyst family gathering, would be taking place later in the evening. Even with families at home to re-connect with over Christmas, the pull to be together was present in each and every one of them. No one else-- _no one at all_ \-- could ever truly understand. The sense of belonging, of security found in those who’d weathered the same storms, created a need that was deep and profound. Stepping away would be gradual, and for this first Christmas home, that the twelve would not remain parted. Raj only had a short flight from his grandmother in New York, so he was first to arrive back home. Both the duos-- Craig-and-Zahra and Michelle-and-Quinn-- had longer flights between home and the families they’d shared most of the holiday with, but arrived in at Northbridge airport at near the same time, so Sean had pre-arranged to play taxi after a Christmas dinner with his mother and brother. Jake would be the straggler. Louisiana was rather more of a trek, and after all those years in forced isolation from his family, he would not be rushing for anyone.

The backyard had been transformed into a nighttime winter wonderland, a snowy playground adorned with lights that changed colour to the beat of Christmas songs piped out into the winter air. A snowball fight stretched across the hours, and carols were easily drowned out by the accompanying shrieks and shouts of laughter.

When Taylor crashed down into the snow beside her wife, she was soaked and shivering from taking hit after hit, and still grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, you put up a valiant fight,” Estela laughed. “Especially because Sean is, you know, pretty much a professional at throwing stuff. If you like, I’ll get back out there and avenge your honour… for a price.”

“A kiss?”

“Well, that _would_ be hard to resist.”

Estela leaned forward, catching the warmth of Taylor’s breath on her lips as she moved in for a tender kiss. When Taylor came away with a happy sigh, they pressed their foreheads together.

They settled down, side by side, looking out over their friends as they laughed and played. The energy was different. Emotions were running high, everything felt on a new level, one that no one beyond this found family could ever understand. No one else knew just how much was being celebrated that Christmas… no one else knew all that had once been lost.

For Taylor, it was validation for the leap of faith she and Estela had taken together, the one that very nearly had cost their future together.

“Michelle was just telling me,” she said, “her mom flew out to Colorado to have Christmas with Quinn’s parents. Quinn’s parents like… together, in the same room, actually getting along. And it was three years, Meech said, since she’s seen her mom at Christmas. She just looked so _happy._ ”

She snuggled close, tucking her arm through Estela’s, and nuzzling against her cold cheek. On a night like this, she couldn’t have any regrets. On a night like this, she could rest her so often troubled mind and know, they’d made it. She whispered kisses through Estela’s hair, against her ear, red with cold, her rosy cheek, the edge of her knowing smile.

“It’s going to be okay now, Estela. My starlight,” she said softly.

“I know. It’s like something you can physically feel. Like everyone’s just floating on a cloud. That kind of pure _relief._ ” Estela hadn’t even felt that when the war ended, when the son-of-a-bitch Salazar took his own life and in doing so set his country free. She’d had her own wars still to fight, both against Rourke and within her very soul. When Taylor had awoken after her sacrifice to save the world, the fear in her had lingered on. Time was Estela’s healer; time allowed her to trust that life could be kind to her, that she was not inevitably hurtling towards darkness and despair and loss. Sometimes, things just got _better._

She found Taylor’s fingers, surely as painfully cold in the night air as her own, and squeezed.

Diego came running up to them. “Hey! I’m just about to head to the airport with Varyyn. I should be an hour, tops.”

Taylor’s face registered surprise. How late _was_ it? “Shit, Top Gun’s landing soon!”

“Ha, yeah… that’s my point. Doesn’t time fly when you’re having fun?”

“We could come with if you like.”

“Thanks, Tay, but I actually wanted to take the time alone with Varyyn. Make the most of what we have-- and it’s dark out, and hardly any traffic; it’ll be nice for him to get out and see the town without too much risk.”

Taylor nodded, understanding. “Okay. But you drive safe, you hear? If you end up dead in a ditch because you can’t keep from kissing him for five minutes, I swear I---”

Diego cut her off with a hug. “And _you_ , don’t drink too much. You are the world’s biggest lightweight.”

Estela sniggered. Taylor’s ability to stand up to the effects of alcohol had been one of the hits she’d taken as a side-effect of her giving back Vaanu’s essence. “I’ll say. Now the driving’s taken care of, I’m pretty sure I’ll be needing to hold her upright within fifteen.”

“Oh, you two are _hilarious._ Fine. I’ll be good if you will. Now get out of here and bring our pilot home-- Craig is desperate to get Secret Santa started!”

Secret Santa was the big event. The one everyone had been waiting for. It had taken Taylor a good deal of scheming and bribing and trading, but she’d managed to secure for Estela the _ideal_ Secret Santa recipient for the brilliant couples gift that she had in mind. For hours upon _hours_ they’d toiled together on their secret project, with Taylor enthusiastically teaching Estela to knit for the purpose. It was only a couple of nights ago that they’d finally finished off their respective masterpieces.

Taylor was practically skipping when she presented her gift to a distinctly nervous-looking Zahra.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”

“Open it, Z!” Craig exclaimed.

Estela hurried over, her own worryingly lumpy parcel in hand. “Hey, Craig! You should open yours too. It’s kind of a set.”

“Why do I have a _very_ bad feeling about this?”

An eager crowd formed, jostling to see what it was Zahra was fussing about.

She pulled open the wrapping, determined to witness whatever disaster awaited her before Craig opened his… and found in her hands a very large bright red Christmas sweater, ‘Player One’ emblazoned in big woollen letters on the front, and ‘P1’ on the back.

“Um, Taylor… you remember when you almost killed yourself restoring the world, right?”

“Kinda sticks in the memory, _so_ … yeah.”

“ I stayed up all night, with Estela in the worst possible mood-- have you _met_ bad-mood-Estela?-- making sure you didn’t drop dead; three long, soul-destroying nights in a row… and _this_ is the thanks I get?”

“ _Bro!_ I _love_ it!” Craig hollered, holding up his ‘Player Two’ sweater. “Best freaking present ever-- when I die, Imma get buried in this thing!”

“So, uh… mixed reviews?”

“If you think I’m gonna wear this---”

“ _Put it on! Put it on! Put it on_!”

Zahra glared at Taylor, then Estela, while Craig’s chants were taken up by the whole group. _For fuck’s sake. I knew friends were a mistake. I should have stayed dead in that goddam temple._

_“Put it on! Put it on!”_

Jake barked a laugh, offering Taylor a gift of his own. “Nice one, Princess! You’ve set the bar high-- as if there was ever any doubt-- but I’m pretty sure you’ll like this.”

She opened her heavy present to find a gently-used old sewing machine. Her eyes lit up. It had been a passing, _passing_ mention that with so much knitting under her belt that she’d wanted to give sewing a try as well, but apparently it hadn’t gone unheard.

“Oh my god!”

“Ma hadn’t used it for ages, and when I told her I was after something for you, she wanted you to have it. Consider it a thanks from both of us for all you did while we were dealing with the courts.”

Taylor found her eyes stinging. She didn’t need _thanks_ , he was good as a brother to her. “Wow, Top Gun. This is…. surprisingly--”

“...surprisin’ly thoughtful?”

“That’s it. Surprisingly thoughtful,” she laughed. When she looked up and caught Jake’s eye, though, she knew he got it. There was nothing surprising about it, after all they’d been through together, she’d never expect anything less than thoughtful-- but she’d be damned if she let the old joke die.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the present-exchanging horde, Sean handed to Estela a small, soft parcel. “Happy Christmas! I hope you like it.”

“Thank you, Sean, I really appreciate it. I’d say you didn’t have to but… Secret Santa… I guess you’re probably expected to actually get your person something.” No doubt she was flushed red, awkward as ever, but accepting gifts was another thing she was slowly getting better at. She unwrapped her gift carefully, saving the paper and appreciating the care that had gone into the neat wrapping and embellishments.

Sean chuckled, not unkindly. “That _is_ the general gist. But it’s my pleasure, really.”

Estela unfolded a lightweight muted green and grey Hartfeld University sweatshirt. She couldn’t help the smile that lit up her whole face. “I guess this means I’ve got to stick around?”

“You’d better.” Sean grinned as Estela put her arms around him, laughing. _Damn, they’d come a long way._ “I know you never intended coming here to be anything other than a means to get closer to your goal, but really, that’s why everyone comes here. If anyone’s a Knight, you are.”

“Thanks. Really… I love it.”

“ _KNIGHTS!”_ Craig boomed.

“Uh, yeah,” Estela said. “That.”

With gifts and hugs exchanged all over the place, everyone began to wind down. For most of the gang, the day had been an exhausting one, crammed with emotional family get-togethers and flights across the country. As mattresses and sofa pillows hit the lounge room floor, there was a shared relief, and tired Catalysts began dropping like flies.

Huddled in a couple of beanbags, Taylor nestled into Estela’s chest and the soft fabric of her new sweater, wrapping her arms around her and sighing with contentment.

“Happy Christmas, lover….”

“Mmm…,” came Estela’s sleepy reply. “Happy Christmas, _mi alma…._ Love you.”

“Love you too. Always.”

Within moments, Estela was slumbering peacefully, her little snores making Taylor’s heart near burst with affection.

Through half-lidded eyes, Taylor looked upon her family around her, yawning or already dead to the world after one insanely hectic holiday. It wouldn’t always be this way. It couldn’t be. Over the years, they would drift their separate ways, cherish the time spent with loved ones elsewhere as old traditions and new played out. But Taylor was certain that they’d never truly grow apart. Some things were just far stronger than the tests of time.

From across the room, Varyyn exchanged a knowing look with Taylor, smiling wistfully as he continued to gently stroke his fingers through a sleeping Diego’s hair.

“G’night,” she mouthed, then let go of an exhale of contentment.

It didn’t matter how long this lasted; what was important would remain. As long as she had Estela in her arms, and her family loving her from however far they had to be, she’d always be home for Christmas.


End file.
